


reverence

by blueberrytree



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Dragon Rider Bokuto, Fluff, Healer Kuroo, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22749592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrytree/pseuds/blueberrytree
Summary: It feels like this: a taste, honey-sweet and syrupy on Bokuto’s tongue; the sight of Kuroo’s red healers’ robes shifting around his legs in the muted, faint light; the solid weight of slim, deft fingers curling around Bokuto’s wrist as Kuroo tugs him towards the smokestone lift.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Haikyuu Valentines





	reverence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uhohnio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhohnio/gifts).



> very much overdue, but this was written for the 2020 haikyuu valentine's exchange! i'm very sorry for the wait, vy!! the prompt i chose was "magic au" c:

Bokuto is back in Altairia by noon.

The sun is high in the sky, and its rays set the city’s white smokestone walls alight with glimmers of magic. The main roads are as broad as Bokuto remembers, teeming with the midday bustle of wagons and carriages and merchants hurrying towards the marketplace. Though only a spot of blinding white from the air, the city is alive with colour from the ground. Tall townhouses, built of sturdy oak and stone mined from the kingdom’s northern quarries, are painted every shade of blue and purple and green conceivable. Buildings in the wealthier district near the Goddess-Tree at the center of the city are built with the same pale silver-white smokestone that the city’s streets and walls are made of. 

Immediately surrounding the Goddess-Tree are slim, elegant spires of smokestone, framing the Goddess-Tree’s twisting branches like the points of a crown framing an unruly head of hair. He had spent years training there as a dragon rider cadet, among dozens of others studying anything from the healing arts to politics.

Bokuto strides briskly through the paved white streets. He barely pauses to take in the comforting familiarity of Altairia’s streets, the delicate arches and austere lines of Altairian architecture or even the burn in his thighs from hours of flight. He is a man on a _mission_ , dammit! 

Still, even Bokuto can’t help but pause at the top of the hill. He takes a brief moment to drink in the familiar sight of sharp points piercing the sky. The Goddess-Tree’s tangled branches peek out from behind the Towers’ protective barrier, heavy with midsummer leaves and ripening fruit. The view strikes a nostalgic chord in Bokuto’s heart. He had found happiness, true happiness, within those spires.

Bokuto had found Iris, for one. He’s not really sure how he’d have found a dragon otherwise—they’re not very friendly when disturbed in the wild, and he wouldn’t have known how to properly gain its trust even if he’d been lucky enough to stumble across one. 

Bokuto smiles. As far as he’s concerned, Iris is maybe the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Bokuto had also found Kuroo at the Towers—or, really, Bokuto and Kuroo had found each other. They had been a rider cadet and a healer apprentice respectively, studying in different Towers but still crossing paths often. Their friendship had begun with a potion and a fistfight, and also Akaashi and Kenma and the library’s fourth floor study room—and now here Bokuto is today. On his way back to the Towers, back to Kuroo. Back _home_.

Kuroo is _also_ maybe the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

A broad smile splits Bokuto’s face at the thought of Kuroo, and he hurries onward down the hill. The throng of people grows thicker as he nears the center of the city. Wagons laden with vibrantly dyed bolts of cloth and pulled by two-tailed horses roll by. Local tradesmen hawk their wares from the side of the road, and Bokuto nearly runs into a carriage while dodging a group of children dashing through the packed crowd. By the time he reaches the Towers, Bokuto is out of breath and giddy with adrenaline. He’d forgotten how chaotic the main Altairian streets were at the day’s peak.

Most of the other Towers are ranged loosely around the Goddess-Tree. The dragon riders’ Main Tower is taller, broader, and farther from the trunk of the Goddess-Tree than any of the other Towers—necessary because the expansive dragon aerie at the top of the spire. An average dragon’s wingspan is more than double the already considerable length of its body, and none of Altairia’s original architects had wanted to deal accidental damage to the Goddess-Tree. 

The healers’ Main Tower, in contrast, is pressed close to the Goddess-Tree. Bokuto vaguely remembers Kuroo saying something about the Goddess-Tree amplifying healing magic, or perhaps something about connecting with the earth and channeling… Bokuto scrunches his brow. He’s really not sure, if he’s being honest. There’s a reason why he chose Practice of Draconic Customs over History of Draconic Lore—memorization of facts just isn’t his forte.

Kenma is just stepping off one of the smokestone lifts as Bokuto enters the healers’ Tower atrium. He’s wearing the gold robes of a full scribe, a marked change from the green assistant’s robes Bokuto had last seen him in. 

“Kenma!” he calls eagerly. He slides through the groups of healer apprentices streaming from the other lifts, visibly eager to get out of class and to lunch, and comes to a halt in front of Kenma.

“Bokuto,” Kenma greets him. He blinks slowly up at the dragon rider—did he grow shorter or something? Bokuto definitely didn’t have to tilt his head down so much to meet Kenma’s eyes the last time they’d talked. 

Ah, well. This particular mystery will have to wait for another time! Bokuto’s on a _mission_ , after all.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto beams. “Listen, I’d love to stop and chat, but I really gotta find—”

“Kuro, right? He’s reorganizing the inventory downstairs.”

“Right, the inventory!” Bokuto says, and starts towards the lift. Something occurs to him as he’s getting on the smokestone platform, and he backtracks to where Kenma’s watching him passively. “Uh, where’s the inventory again?”

Kenma looks at him with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Third level down, probably nose-deep in the poisonous flowers aisle. You’ll see him.”

“Thanks, Kenma!” Bokuto waves, and steps onto the lift.

The light from the atrium slowly disappears as he descends. The white smokestone arches take on a slightly greyer tint, but even underground, the healers’ Tower is nothing short of striking. Something about the smokestone here is different from the rest of the city—it’s more vibrant, more alive. Bokuto presses a palm to the lift platform. It’s almost like it’s humming with energy, sending a tingly shock up his arm. 

It probably has something to do with the whole “conducive to healing” thing Kuroo told him about, Bokuto thinks.

The lift comes to a smooth halt, and Bokuto nearly leaps out in his haste to get going. He hasn’t seen Kuroo in _months_ ! The last time was back at the start of winter, when Kuroo’s healing studies had taken him out to the dragon riders’ camp to collect scales and blood and whatever else healers need from dragons. They had spent three days together, three days of a _whole year_! Impatient would be putting it way too lightly—Bokuto feels like he’s about to crawl out of his skin and explode into little bitty pieces of excitement.

Kenma’s correct, as usual—the poisonous flowers section is exceedingly easy to find, and Kuroo even easier. Bokuto spots him from aisles away, his dark spikes of hair prominent against the smokestone. His back is facing Bokuto, and he’s wearing the dark red robes that mark him as a fully-fledged healer. A burst of pride rushes through Bokuto. It’s accompanied by a slight tinge of sadness—Bokuto should’ve been there for the ceremony! He can’t believe he missed it, missed Kuroo’s _graduation_ ceremony! 

Bokuto frowns before shaking the thought away. Now isn’t the time for regret or melancholy. He can return to these thoughts later, after he’s had his fill of Kuroo’s pretty smile and his ugly laugh and the way his eyes get all squinty when he’s trying not to give in to whatever genius thing Bokuto’s planning.

Bokuto reconsiders. 

He’ll never get his fill, actually. Not of Kuroo.

(Especially because he always gives in. Akaashi _never_ gives in. 

Okay, fine, Akaashi gives in _sometimes_ , but only when it isn’t a _really_ fun idea.)

Bokuto tiptoes forward on silent feet. His boots are soft and supple, made from Iris’s shed dragonskin, and are (as he’s now discovering) very nice for sneaking up on people. He gets close enough to reach out and touch Kuroo’s back before clearing his throat and tapping Kuroo on the shoulder.

“Hey, Kuroo.”

Maybe Bokuto should feel some sort of trepidation—they haven’t seen each other in over six months, after all—but there’s a not-entirely-unwelcome sparkly feeling in his chest, and Bokuto can’t bring himself to feel nervous in the slightest.

Kuroo whirls around to face him, eyes widening and lips parting as he takes Bokuto in. The sweep of black hair over his right eye is stupidly, endearingly charming. Kuroo’s bedhead hasn’t changed, even after four years of training at the Towers and one long, long year apart.

“Bokuto?” The vial of liquid slips from his hand and falls to the floor with a little tinkling sound.

 _He’s so beautiful_ , Bokuto thinks helplessly.

“That’s me! Your favorite– mmph!”

Kuroo launches himself forward into Bokuto’s arms, effectively cutting off his sentence and knocking the breath from his lungs in one move. Bokuto staggers back a little under Kuroo’s weight before steadying himself. His healer is warm and solid, and Bokuto wraps his arms around Kuroo and presses him closer to his chest. His heart pounds erratically in his ribcage, drunk on something golden and ecstatic. Bokuto feels nearly dizzy with the force of it.

“Holy shit Bo, what– why are you– how are you _here_?” Kuroo’s asks incredulously, stepping back from Bokuto’s embrace. His hands trail down from Bokuto’s shoulders and linger on his arms, almost as if he’s reassuring himself that Bokuto is real.

“Extended visit to talk to the advisors’ cohort! The camp leaders let me come ‘cause I know Akaashi and he’s already a really good advisor.”

Kuroo hums distractedly, dragging his eyes up from Bokuto’s arms. “He is. It’s kinda scary how high up the ladder he’s gotten. But, hey, Bo, have you gotten buffer? I swear your biceps didn’t feel this, uh. Firm. Last time I saw you,” Kuroo says. A flush works its way onto his cheeks.

“You think? The camp wing-leaders have been upping our training regimen. It sucks _so fucking much_ , Tetsu,” Bokuto complains.

Kuroo shrugs. “Worth it to me,” he says unrepentantly, squeezing Bokuto’s muscles appreciatively. “Your arms were great before, but you’re seriously jacked as hell now.”

Bokuto preens, puffing his chest out. “Thanks! You’re super hot, too—and hey, did you get taller or something? I swear you’re taller.”

“Maybe you just got shorter.”

“No way, unless Kenma shrank, like, seven inches while I was away.”

Kuroo laughs, short and bright. Starbursts, fizzy and a little fluttery, light inside Bokuto’s stomach. The air around them seems to lighten.

Maybe this is the sort of love that wins battles and changes worlds, the sort of love that bards sing epics about and romantics swoon over. 

It doesn’t feel like it, though. It feels like this: a taste, honey-sweet and syrupy on Bokuto’s tongue; the sight of Kuroo’s red healers’ robes shifting around his legs in the muted, faint light; the solid weight of slim, deft fingers curling around Bokuto’s wrist as Kuroo tugs him towards the smokestone lift. It feels like the warmth that spreads up Bokuto’s arm and through the rest of his body, and how Kuroo doesn’t let go until they’ve made it well past the city gates.

It feels like this: the simple pleasure of biting into a slice of watermelon at the height of summer, the sky a beautiful cerulean and streaked with wispy clouds; scrunching his nose up at the sticky trails of watermelon juice on his face and hands and looking over to catch crinkled hazel eyes and a startlingly happy laugh. 

It feels like this: half-clambering, half-falling off Iris’s back after a long flight and lying down on soft green grass only to leap up and hurry towards tall, imposing white walls surrounding an ancient tree and the healer that cradles Bokuto’s heart in his hands.

It feels like devious smiles and the graceful fall of Kuroo’s hair in his eyes. It feels like giddiness and excitement and elation and under it all, the steady pulse in Bokuto’s chest that beats _I love you I love you I love you_.

It feels small, because everything that Bokuto is with Kuroo is but a collection of the little moments, amassed across years and years. It feels mundane, because those moments are so heart-wrenchingly normal. It feels unimportant and also not very unimportant at all, because all of those moments are his and Kuroo’s.

Bokuto smiles, helplessly in love.

It feels like this: something shining, something to be treasured. 

Something reverent.

*

_EXTRA:_

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know, all,” Kuroo makes a vague gesture at Bokuto’s face, “blinding. Like that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bokuto says, grinning wider. 

“Yes you do.”

“N-o I don’t.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo says, and leans over to steal a bit of his watermelon, shoulder pressing into Bokuto’s. He looks up, face smug and eyes glinting with laughter, and Bokuto can’t help himself.

Their lips meet, and it feels like something in Bokuto’s heart finally settles.

 _I love you I love you I love you_.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! comments and kudos are much appreciated <3
> 
> ahh man you have no clue how excited i was to get to write bokuroo!! and magic au too!! the flavour is immaculate... thank you for giving me the opportunity to write these two boyos, vy!! i hope you liked it!
> 
> the setting for this piece was heavily inspired by some of the concept art for [demacia](https://universe.leagueoflegends.com/en_US/region/demacia/) from league of legends (i don't play the game, but their art is very nice to look at), especially the [lift](https://am-a.akamaihd.net/image?f=https%3A%2F%2Funiverse-meeps.leagueoflegends.com%2Fv1%2Fassets%2Fimages%2Fdemacia_raptors_05.jpg&resize=:1200) and the [atrium](https://am-a.akamaihd.net/image?f=https%3A%2F%2Funiverse-meeps.leagueoflegends.com%2Fv1%2Fassets%2Fimages%2Ffactions%2Fimage-gallery%2Fdemacia-hallvalor.jpg&resize=:1200), and also the [dragons](https://am-a.akamaihd.net/image?f=https%3A%2F%2Funiverse-meeps.leagueoflegends.com%2Fv1%2Fassets%2Fimages%2Fdemacia_raptors_02.jpg&resize=:1200). i never got to mention their weapons in the fic, but bokuto has one of these nice-lookin [swords](https://am-a.akamaihd.net/image?f=https%3A%2F%2Funiverse-meeps.leagueoflegends.com%2Fv1%2Fassets%2Fimages%2Fdemacia_tools_02.jpg&resize=:1200) (the third one) and kuroo has a staff a lot like the ones [here](https://am-a.akamaihd.net/image?f=https%3A%2F%2Funiverse-meeps.leagueoflegends.com%2Fv1%2Fassets%2Fimages%2Fdemacia_tools_01.jpg&resize=:1200)!!
> 
> i'm also on [tumblr](https://blxeberrytree.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/blxeberrytree) :3 come say hi!!


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